Driving skills are one thing, but the car''s performance really makes a difference in the race.


    One of his crew members sighed, "Yeah, he just crashed into his own team''s car, and there was barely a scratch on it. Curtis''s car is good, but it''s still not quite there."


    Curtis turned to him and said, "Go tell Curtis to switch the lead position. Let the red sports car fall back."


    After a pause, he added, "No need for a head-to-head sh. It''s fine if we lose the second round; there''s still the third. Just make sure no one gets hurt."


    The crew member gave him a quick nod and left.


    There was a five-minute break between the first and second rounds.


    Curtis nced at his watch, wondering where James was and if he''d make it for the third round.


    *


    On the track, Curtis was in his car, talking to Mirabe over the inte, "We won the first round. They''ll definitely target you next, so let''s switch spots. I''ll be the decoy and draw their attention, and you can adapt as needed."


    Mirabe, leaning against the car door, gazed outside and simply said, "No need."


    Why stretch it to a third round if it can be done in two? What a waste of time.


    She checked her watch, pulled out her phone, and texted Grady, letting him know she was still in the bathroom.


    Curtis''s voice came back through the earpiece, "Your car can''tpete with Andi''s. If you get hit, it could be deadly!"


    Mirabe put away her phone, her gaze calm, "He doesn''t have the skills. Let''s wrap up this second round quickly. Have your people ready the money."


    Curtis, still pondering how to convince Mirabe to change tactics, was caught off guard by the mention of money: "..."


    After a pause, he sighed, "Alright, just be careful."


    Mirabe gave a soft hum in response.


    She nced at the ck sports car parked nearby, licking her lips. So, it''s got good performance, huh?


    Andi, feeling an unexpected chill: ...


    After the five-minute break, the cars lined up again. Curtis, who hadn''t switched the lead spot, frowned in the control room.


    He checked his watch once more.


    On the track, as the starting gun sounded, just like before, Mirabe''s red sports car shot forward, the wind whooshing past her ears. Thanks to her helmet, it wasn''t too loud.


    This time, Andi''s car didn''t keep pace with Mirabe''s. Instead, it hung back at a deliberate distance.


    He wasn''t about to make a fool of himself like in the first round.


    This score needed settling.


    Andi''s eyes were cold. He might not outdrive her, but he could use the car to his advantage.


    Three minutes into the race, the ck sports car began bumping into the back of the red one. Each hit dented the red car''s rear, naturally affecting the driver.


    A less steady driver could easily lose their cool.


    Mirabe nced in the rearview mirror at the car relentlessly hitting hers, a smirk ying on her lips, then focused back on the track ahead.


    Another sharp turn wasing up.


    Since he liked crashing on turns, it''d be a shame not to give him the show he seemed to crave.


    In the next moment, Mirabe floored the gas pedal.